And Richard More, watching, had a sudden sense of the mysterious force of very familiar things.... This was Eleanor’s face—that he had known and loved for years; and it was the face of a strange woman, an unknown majestic presence who moved beside him always. And then the mask of greatness would slip from her, and she would chatter for days about nothing, trivial things—delighting like a child in the discoveries he brought and laid in her lap when he alighted at some lonely station—a flower or a bit of mineral; and the train would plunge on again, dipping around the curve of a hill, climbing along a dizzy cliff, while she sat beside him, her hand a little reached out to him, her breath half stayed by a glance of delight. “It is a voyage of discovery,” he said in her ear. “How foolish—to want to stay in one place—always!” Her hand swept up to the piling masses of snow, glacial vastnesses that gleamed high above them. “How foolish!” she said softly. And the strange look of dignity and strength came swiftly into her face. “A voyage of discovery,” he repeated.... “Do you think we shall find it?” She looked at him with puzzled eyes. “Find—?” she said vaguely. “The Chinese coat?” “Oh—!” she laughed out. “Perhaps so. It doesn’t matter—does it?” She nodded toward the distant peaks of snow—a faint tinge of pink was beginning to rest on them.... “It does not matter!” she said softly. “No—it does not matter.... But I should like to find it—for you.” When she looked at him her eyes were full of tears. “Foolish boy!” she said, “to care—for that!” “We will go back—if you say so,” he responded. He was watching her closely. She reached out a quick hand. “No—Oh, no! We must go on!” she cried under her breath. He laughed out. “I thought so! You care for it—as much as I do.... Only “I want to go on,” she said swiftly. “What would the children say—if we should come back now?” “They would be a little surprised—to see us walk in,” he admitted. “Very well, madam—to please you, we will go on.” They talked in any foolish way that pleased them, and they did not hurry on the journey. He had a time-table of the dates of sailing of the Japanese line they were to travel by, and a stateroom engaged on each boat sailing for the next month. One after one he relinquished them, by telegraph, as the days slipped by. They stopped off for two weeks at a high mountain inn that they liked; and several times they rested for days in some spot that pleased her fancy. He watched her face. When it grew fatigued, he gave directions to the Japanese courier who had joined them at a point on the journey, and they left the train at the next station. The courier came and went like a shadow along the route—sometimes ahead of them and sometimes following, but always at hand when he was needed. Eleanor grew to watch for his face as if he were a kind of meteor that played a game with them.